Tease
by HomicidalFangirls
Summary: When the 'tension' between France and England becomes unbearable even for the other nations and Germany makes a complaint, Prussia comes up with an ingenious plan to stop their fighting! FrUK, possible other pairings.
1. Chapter 1

"Come now, Angleterre, zere is nothing for you to be 'aving a fit about!" France could barely conceal his own broad grin as he called across to the frustrated Brit. "You looked like you were 'aving a good time!"

"Having a good time?" England spat, "I'd be having a better time trying to change America's feeding habits!" He turned away from the Frenchman, refusing to accept the fact that it was a tiny bit amusing.

"Oh, you would know how to ''ave a good time', wouldn't you?" France aimed a wink at England. "I 'ave 'eard from certain...sources, zat you are more zan a little...close to your frére, non?" He chuckled. "I would never 'ave considered you ze type, Angleterre."

England was at a loss at France's comment. Sure, he and his brother were growing closer, but _God,_ that bloody twat always jumped to conclusions about everything. "I'm not like you! I don't start treating people kindly just to get in their pants. There is nothing going on", he snapped.

"Ze last time I checked, at zat party zat our dear Alfred was holding, your frére wasn't WEARING any pants." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "...Well. At least not after I was done with 'im."

"You slept with him? What were you thinking? He had too much to drink, as always, and you took advantage of him. How would you feel if I took advantage of Canada?" England spluttered, his face going red. _That'll make him think,_ England thought happily.

France didn't miss a beat. "What, mon cher, makes you think zat YOU would be the one taking advantage of Canada?" He laughed. "And, I never said I DID sleep with 'im. Goodness, Angleterre, you seem a tad...defensive."

_Aaaand, there's another failed comeback for the books._ "You...didn't? Then what exactly _did_ you mean? And, I'm not defensive, it's just I've known him since he was little, and I want to make sure he doesn't make...mistakes", he muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing at all, mon ami!" France said cheerfully, idly pouring himself a glass of wine. "It is simply fun to watch your reactions." He took a sip of his wine and grinned. "Mistakes zat you wish you 'adn't made?" He mirrored England's movement and raised an eyebrow of his own. "Pray tell what?"

"Mistakes? You think something went on between us? I've told you already that nothing happened. If something did, Ireland wouldn't approach me for at least another thirty years, but he's still pestering me as always. So, go take your blasted theories elsewhere", England snarled, slumping in his chair.

"...I am thinking zat you are needing a little...'ow you say, consolation." France perched himself upon the arm of England's chair, suggestively draping a leg over England's splayed knee.

England froze in his seat. For all the centuries he's known this man, he had the suspicion he'd never understand France. One minute he was preparing England to start a war against him, and now he was making moves on him? "Off, off. Get off, you blasted dolt!" England said irritably, trying his best to get the Frenchman off him.

"Zere is no need to be zat way!" France rather reluctantly shifted his leg slightly. He turned away from the fuming blond, crossing his arms and pretending to pout. "You know, you will 'ave ze most unbelievably 'ard time finding an amante with zat attitude..." A smile broke out onto his face, and he turned to look at England again. "Or should I say 'amant'?"

England attempted to stand up to make a run for the door, but France's weight was a little too much to shove off. "Wait- What exactly do you want? Do you want to annoy me enough to punch you in the nose or do you want to sleep with me? Make up your mind!" England hissed, trying not to meet France's eyes.

"Are you offering, Angleterre?"

"Absolutely _not._ I've hated you for years. Why would I suddenly want to do anything provocative now?"

France heaved a dramatic sigh. "Ah well. Zat is quite a shame...I could have shown you a... magnifique time." He shrugged. "I 'ave 'eard zat ze...ah, what's the word zat dear Kiku would use...tsundere are always the most...enjoyable."

England looked at France again. Was he...trying to guilt trip him? "I'm not going to let you get your way. Why should I let you come anywhere near me?" he grumbled, sitting upright again. He felt quite flustered after France's little...show.

France chuckled once more. "Mon cher, you ask ze most ridiculous questions." He flicked back a lock of his hair and gave England (what he thought was) a devilish grin. "Because I am gorgeous, Angleterre, and you aren't so bad yourself."

England tried to stop his face from becoming red again. He was used to being insulted, but rarely ever got compliments. He shook his head quickly. "You look like a frog", he said, and continued o hold up his cold guard.

"And I suppose zat ze sudden rush of blood to those lovely cheeks of yours is just due to a 'ot flush, non?"

"Y-you just know how warm it is today. Don't get any ideas!"

France made to get off the red-faced Brit, his grin stretching practically the entire length of his face. It was something of a guilty pleasure to annoy England. At least, it would be, if he wasn't France, and thus felt guilty about any kind of pleasure. "I 'ave business to attend to elsewhere, Angleterre. But zis 'as been very...entertaining." Teasingly, he blew a kiss at England. "Au revoir!" With a little more flamboyancy than was necessary, he flounced out of the room.

England stood rooted to the spot, confused by France's sudden display. _What the hell...just happened?_

(A/N)

Why, hello there! I hope you enjoyed the first part of this fic! :D I must point out that this fic was, and will be, written in an RP kind of fashion. My wonderful friend Laura here is the one who (perfectly, in my opinion) played England, and I (Megan) am the one who (failed at) playing France. XD

Laura would like to say, _'I am not as mentally screwed up as I've been made out to be throughout this RP! 8D'_

So...Shall we continue? :D

Oh, also:

Angleterre = England

Frére = Brother

Mon cher = My dear

Mon ami = My friend

Amante/amant = lover (Amante = female, amant = male)

Magnifique = Magnificent

Au revoir = Goodbye


	2. Chapter 2

Prussia swaggered into his younger brother's house with a devilish smirk on his lips. _Heh, he'll be grateful. He loves surprise visits from his awesome bruder!_ he thought, making as much racket as he could to make sure he'd be noticed. "West? Westtt? Where are you? C'mon, show your face, I've brought beer!" he called out, poking his head around every open door.

Germany gave a soft groan at the sound of his brother's voice and attempted to bury his face into the meticulously polished wood of the table. "Gott, go away..." He moaned as he heard his brother banging open every unopened door in the house.

_Hm...In the kitchen, maybe?_ Prussia thought, just about hearing his brother's voice. His little bird fluttered in before him, chirping away happily, and was followed by his owner. He spotted Germany resting his head on the table. Without any hesitation, he ran over to him, and placed a hand on top of the German's blonde hair. "Why so unawesome today?" he asked, messing up Germany's hair slightly.

Germany muttered something indistinct into the table, not making any move other than to shove his brother's hand away from his hair.

Prussia felt slightly annoyed by Germany's ignorance. He took a seat beside him. Pulling out two bottles of beer, he waved one in front of Germany's face. As uptight and strict Germany was, Prussia knew that he wouldn't say no to a good alcoholic drink.

The clink of the bottle on the table didn't go unnoticed by Germany. He lifted his face a little, looking from the bottle to Prussia, and, with a sigh, took it and took a gulp. As irritating as his brother was, he knew him far too well. "Danke," he grunted, knuckling his forehead.

Prussia grinned. No one could ignore him forever. "So, _now_ are you going to tell me why you're acting like Italy just ditched you...again?" he asked, trying to hold in his laughter.

Germany glared at Prussia. "I've told you before, I don't like him like that." Although he was telling the truth, talking about such subjects was an uncommon event, and his cheeks coloured a little. "I'm just tired," he yawned. "The World Conference was very..." He searched for a word.

Prussia knew he was making a breakthrough. Hm. Maybe this was the way to get people to talk instead of getting Gilbird to peck them until they spoke? "Very...? Come on! Think of something!" he encouraged. As much as Prussia missed being a proper nation, attending those Conferences wasn't something he missed. It was only Germany's problem now.

"...Stupid," the blond said eventually. "To be honest, it wasn't even worth attending. There was...more than a little tension, it seemed, between England and France." His right eyebrow twitched a little at the memory. "They were screaming and clawing at each other before Italy and I had walked through the door."

"That's it? They've been acting that way ever since we were all little!" Prussia laughed. He knew that France and England weren't exactly terrible at meetings these days from what he heard, but all habits are usually brought back at some point. He didn't know if Germany was overreacting or not. He did deal with Italy every day for six years during the second world war. Prussia was certain Germany could put up with anything after that.

"Prussia, you have NO IDEA how utterly pathetic they are becoming," said Germany, venom piercing his tone. "I used to find their little feud unworthy of notice, even a little amusing, but I really do think they will end up annihilating each other if someone doesn't step in!" He took another long swig of his beer. "If America wasn't there to redirect England's frustration, France would be coughing up his lungs through his ears."

"Wow...That _is_ bad. Did you hear anything?" Prussia asked excitedly, leaning in closer. He loved hearing about all the drama in the world today. No one ever told him, apart from Germany on his good days. _Other nations just can't take the awesomeness,_ he thought.

Germany rolled his eyes. "I am not like you. I don't go around, eavesdropping on other people," he said coldly. "It wouldn't have made a difference whether I could hear them or not, anyway," he added as an afterthought, "They were yelling so loudly. Most of it was native curses. You know the sort."

Prussia laughed. Of course he knew about native curses. Austria put them on him all the time as a kid. "Aw, West, you're no fun", he muttered, pouting. Then, an idea struck him. "Guess who just came up with the greatest plan of plans to put an end to your emo days?"

"Let me guess," Germany sighed. "Would it by any chance be you?"

Prussia slapped him on the back. "Correct! For your next meeting, I'm going to come along, with help from my trusty companion", he started, and pointed at Gilbird, "To your next meeting, and put an end once and for all to France and England's fights! Doctor Prussia will be in the house!" He was absolutely delighted with how his idea was developing quickly in his mind.

"You-...I...You're going to WHAT?" Germany yelled. Out of all of the hare-brained schemes his brother had concocted over the years, not once had he attempted to mess with the big guns, the World Conference. Germany had a sneaking suspicion that his pride held him back from ever visiting the place again - the rules certainly didn't stop him. This wasn't going to end well

Confusion overtook Prussia. "What's the problem? I thought you wanted to come home in a good mood! I'm doing this for you, y'know", Prussia lied.

"Prussia," said Germany dully, "The last time you told me you were doing something for me I ended up in a womens' prison somewhere in Canada." He turned to glare at his brother. "You scared the life out of him."

"Oh, please. The little blonde kid had it coming to him. But, that was a once off thing. My other plans brought you happiness that lasted years! Remember?" Prussia told his younger brother, draping an arm around his shoulder.

Germany racked his brains for a memory, any memory, of any time Prussia had helped him in any way at all... "My memory is a little hazy," he said dryly. "Remind me of those incidents?"

"Remember, during the second world war? I helped to shut Austria up after weeks of your complaining. You have the best brother in the world!"

"Ja, ja, if you say so," Germany sighed. He pushed his beer aside and looked at Prussia with calculating eyes. "What exactly did you do to him?"

There was a wicked gleam in Prussia's eye. "Let's just say that I wasn't exactly Austria's best friend for a couple of decades", he cackled, and leant back in his chair.

Dull blue eyes suddenly widened as realization dawned upon Germany. "Uh...right," he coughed. "I...um...very well, good job on that, danke..." He swiped his beer back and downed the rest. "So," he said a little awkwardly, attempting to deviate from the topic at hand, "What is this 'plan' of yours?"

_Thank Gott he dropped the subject,_ Prussia thought. Germany would kill him if he figured out what Prussia did to shut Austria up all those years ago. "So, here's the plan. I walk into the meeting with you, if the two idioten are already fighting, I send Gilbird in to break them up. If that doesn't work, I then jump in, and you put on a show about how those two injured your beloved bruder, and guilt trip them into never fighting again! Pretty awesome, huh?" Prussia took a deep breath after explaining.

Germany blinked incredulously at his brother. "How exactly do you intend to walk into the next Conference?" He asked. "You were banned, if I recall correctly." _'Not that I believe his plan would work anyway,' he thought silently._

Prussia let out his usual laugh. His brother was underestimating his ability to think things through yet again. "I'll disguise as Italy! The little pasta loving idiot always goes in with you, so nothing would seem suspicious", Prussia explained, swinging back and forth on his chair.

There were many things that Germany let his brother get away with, but if one thing was a forbidden subject, it was Italy. "Two things. Ein; how could you convince Italy not to come to the meeting? And zwei; you're taller than me. Italy is much shorter than I am. No one would believe your disguise."

"There are quite a few "All You Can Eat" buffets in the area, so all I need to do is send Italy to one of those for the day. And, you can explain the height issue. Just say that _I_ took a bit of a growth spurt. The world's grown dumb. They'll believe it."

"You don't-" Germany paused. There was probably more than a grain of truth in his brother's words. If anything, America would definitely swallow the bluff, and he was, as much as it pained Germany to admit it, one of the most influential nations. He sighed. "Okay..." He muttered. "I'll...play along."

Prussia jumped out of his seat, causing his bird to jump with fright. He wrapped his arms around Germany from behind. "You won't regret this, ich verspreche! You'll have an awesome time at those World Conferences once my plan's complete", Prussia said, happiness in his voice for convincing his uptight brother for letting him go along with the plan. This was, without a doubt, going to be awesome.

_

(A/N)

Hey there again! :D We'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the first chapter, as they were pretty much all positive! 8D Here's the second chapter – this time Laura played the Awesome Prussia, and I played Germany. XD

Is there anyone you guys would like to see appear next? 8D

And:

Gott = God

Danke = Thank you

Bruder = Brother

Ein = One

Zwei = Two

Ich verspreche = I promise 


End file.
